TITLE: 99 Red Balloons
AUTHOR: Cyn(di)
EMAIL: custardpringle@yahoo.com
RATING: PG-13 for language, brief gore, severe emotional suffering
CATEGORY: drama, angst
SUMMARY: Goofing off leads to disaster. Character death. (Based on the
song.)
SPOILERS: none
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm bad at inventing names for aliens. Bear with me, would
you?
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It had been many generations since the gods had left.
Slarin often wondered whether they would ever return. It was common knowledge that the Others, in their usual stupidity, had conspired to drive them away from Mikairna. The gods-even the goddess Morrigan, who had particularly favored Slarin's village-had been angry at the Others' folly and abandoned the world altogether. Along with them had gone the Mikairnans' exceptional good health, brought by the divine Snakes, and much technology that had been crucial to the village's well-being.
Slarin's people were still recovering, and the population had been going down ever since, according to the historical records remaining from the Gods' time. And all this havoc had been wreaked thanks to the Others. After that last deed on their part, all attempts at friendliness with the strange people had ended.
The two villages had, in fact, been on the brink of war since Slarin's great-grandfather had been a boy. Another thing that had remained after the Gods' departure was a few extremely destructive machines. Some were smaller, shaped for a man to hold and carved in the form of the divine Snakes, and induced terrible pain or death for whomever they pointed towards.
Others were much larger, and produced violent explosions upon strong enough impact with the ground. Slarin's people-and presumably the Others as well- had, in the time since the Gods' departure, been able to devise other machines that would throw these larger things a great distance.
Neither village had attacked the other yet, but it was only a matter of time. Slarin was weapons-master for his village, entrusted with keeping the deadly machines constantly ready for battle. He knew that the Others could strike at any time.
And, from the looks of it, this might well be the time. Slarin's young assistant, Pakla, had spotted a large group of strange objects floating over the trees this morning and panicked. She had come running to him immediately and panted out the news.
"Slarin," she had told him, her eyes wide with fear, "the Others have invented something new. New machines. I've seen them!"
"Calm down," he had instructed her, although his mind was already whirling with possibilities. "What have you seen?"
Pakla had taken a deep breath. "I do not know. There were many of them above the trees, more than I could count, floating towards out village. They were bright red and round. Like enormous drops of blood, about-" she held her hands a shoulder's-width apart-"this wide. And each had a string coming from it."
"Strange indeed," Slarin had mused. "And you think they come from the Others?"
"From where else could they have come? It would be wonderful if I could claim they came from the Gods, but it has been so long since they returned. Their Ring has been dead for ever."
"These machines must have been sent by the Others, then," he had said. "It seems to me that they must be spying on us, trying to find a weakness. Those red things, if they are truly so large, could easily conceal an advanced camera-" their people had only recently invented such a device- "and the strings you speak of could easily be an antenna to transmit images."
Pakla had sunk into a chair. "If the Others are preparing to attack, what can we do?"
"We must go to the Assembly and tell them what you have seen," Slarin had informed her. "They will be able to decide what we should do."
-----
It was afternoon now, and Slarin and Pakla were back in his office. Their discussion with the Assembly had lasted well through noontime, but the conclusion had been clear from the beginning. The only explanation-apart from the return of the Gods, which was highly improbable-was that the Others were planning to attack the village. Fortunately, thanks to weapons- master Slarin, they were ready to defend themselves.
Well, not precisely to defend themselves. The Assembly had ultimately decided that the best course of action would be to attack the Others before the Others could attack them.
This decision worried Pakla considerably. "What if the machines really are from the Gods?" she asked nervously. "Won't they be angry that we have destroyed the Others?"
"Remember that it was the Others who drove the Gods away," Slarin assured her confidently. "If, by some miracle, the Gods truly have returned, they will be pleased at the deaths of the blasphemers. And if the Gods have not returned, then surely the Others are planning to attack us and we have saved our own village from destruction."
Pakla nodded. "Very well, Slarin. I myself am still not sure, but I trust you. I will help you to prepare to destroy the Others."
"I will be glad of your assistance," he said gratefully. "We are nearly ready, but there is still much work left for us to do. First, you must go out and tell everyone in the village of our danger. Assure them that they have nothing to fear from our own weapons and that the Others will soon be destroyed. And then perhaps the goddess Morrigan will be pleased and return to us. "
She nodded bravely and ran out of the room. Slarin knew he had to prepare the machines to fire, but he still took a minute first to sit back in his chair and ruminate on the day's hectic events. After generations of tension, of worry, of uncertainty, things were finally coming to a head. And although Slarin would never have admitted it to Pakla or to anyone else, he was just as frightened as she was.
What if the Others had better machines than they did? What if they had already launched them? Slarin realized now that his village was nowher near as prepared as it thought. If the Others had already launched the wepons to destroy his entire village, they wouldn't know until it was too late to do anything.
And worse yet, what if the Others could not only see the machines partway there, but use their own to destroy them? What then?
Slarin sighed and got up. He had too much work to worry about these things.
--------------------------------------------------
It had been many generations since the gods had left.
Slarin often wondered whether they would ever return. It was common knowledge that the Others, in their usual stupidity, had conspired to drive them away from Mikairna. The gods-even the goddess Morrigan, who had particularly favored Slarin's village-had been angry at the Others' folly and abandoned the world altogether. Along with them had gone the Mikairnans' exceptional good health, brought by the divine Snakes, and much technology that had been crucial to the village's well-being.
Slarin's people were still recovering, and the population had been going down ever since, according to the historical records remaining from the Gods' time. And all this havoc had been wreaked thanks to the Others. After that last deed on their part, all attempts at friendliness with the strange people had ended.
The two villages had, in fact, been on the brink of war since Slarin's great-grandfather had been a boy. Another thing that had remained after the Gods' departure was a few extremely destructive machines. Some were smaller, shaped for a man to hold and carved in the form of the divine Snakes, and induced terrible pain or death for whomever they pointed towards.
Others were much larger, and produced violent explosions upon strong enough impact with the ground. Slarin's people-and presumably the Others as well- had, in the time since the Gods' departure, been able to devise other machines that would throw these larger things a great distance.
Neither village had attacked the other yet, but it was only a matter of time. Slarin was weapons-master for his village, entrusted with keeping the deadly machines constantly ready for battle. He knew that the Others could strike at any time.
And, from the looks of it, this might well be the time. Slarin's young assistant, Pakla, had spotted a large group of strange objects floating over the trees this morning and panicked. She had come running to him immediately and panted out the news.
"Slarin," she had told him, her eyes wide with fear, "the Others have invented something new. New machines. I've seen them!"
"Calm down," he had instructed her, although his mind was already whirling with possibilities. "What have you seen?"
Pakla had taken a deep breath. "I do not know. There were many of them above the trees, more than I could count, floating towards out village. They were bright red and round. Like enormous drops of blood, about-" she held her hands a shoulder's-width apart-"this wide. And each had a string coming from it."
"Strange indeed," Slarin had mused. "And you think they come from the Others?"
"From where else could they have come? It would be wonderful if I could claim they came from the Gods, but it has been so long since they returned. Their Ring has been dead for ever."
"These machines must have been sent by the Others, then," he had said. "It seems to me that they must be spying on us, trying to find a weakness. Those red things, if they are truly so large, could easily conceal an advanced camera-" their people had only recently invented such a device- "and the strings you speak of could easily be an antenna to transmit images."
Pakla had sunk into a chair. "If the Others are preparing to attack, what can we do?"
"We must go to the Assembly and tell them what you have seen," Slarin had informed her. "They will be able to decide what we should do."
-----
It was afternoon now, and Slarin and Pakla were back in his office. Their discussion with the Assembly had lasted well through noontime, but the conclusion had been clear from the beginning. The only explanation-apart from the return of the Gods, which was highly improbable-was that the Others were planning to attack the village. Fortunately, thanks to weapons- master Slarin, they were ready to defend themselves.
Well, not precisely to defend themselves. The Assembly had ultimately decided that the best course of action would be to attack the Others before the Others could attack them.
This decision worried Pakla considerably. "What if the machines really are from the Gods?" she asked nervously. "Won't they be angry that we have destroyed the Others?"
"Remember that it was the Others who drove the Gods away," Slarin assured her confidently. "If, by some miracle, the Gods truly have returned, they will be pleased at the deaths of the blasphemers. And if the Gods have not returned, then surely the Others are planning to attack us and we have saved our own village from destruction."
Pakla nodded. "Very well, Slarin. I myself am still not sure, but I trust you. I will help you to prepare to destroy the Others."
"I will be glad of your assistance," he said gratefully. "We are nearly ready, but there is still much work left for us to do. First, you must go out and tell everyone in the village of our danger. Assure them that they have nothing to fear from our own weapons and that the Others will soon be destroyed. And then perhaps the goddess Morrigan will be pleased and return to us. "
She nodded bravely and ran out of the room. Slarin knew he had to prepare the machines to fire, but he still took a minute first to sit back in his chair and ruminate on the day's hectic events. After generations of tension, of worry, of uncertainty, things were finally coming to a head. And although Slarin would never have admitted it to Pakla or to anyone else, he was just as frightened as she was.
What if the Others had better machines than they did? What if they had already launched them? Slarin realized now that his village was nowher near as prepared as it thought. If the Others had already launched the wepons to destroy his entire village, they wouldn't know until it was too late to do anything.
And worse yet, what if the Others could not only see the machines partway there, but use their own to destroy them? What then?
Slarin sighed and got up. He had too much work to worry about these things.